My Lyoness
by DarkComedy
Summary: It's been a year since Amata, the girl of his dreams, broke his heart after she kicked him out of Vault 101. Now, the Lone Wanderer has received notice that the residents of Vault 101 are preparing to finally travel to the surface. The Wanderer decides to attend, but with a special someone who puts a welcome kink in the plan. LWxSarah Lyons Oneshot. Not for Amata fans. Enjoy.


**My Lyoness**

The dull grayness of the afternoon sky cast a black shadow over the irradiated wasteland before him. But now, after over a year wandering the Wastes, the man returned to the place which had borne him into his new life.

He was, of course, known by many names. Some called him the Last Best Hope of Humanity, and emulated him like some majestic icon; others had deemed him a villain and attempted to snuff out his life like a flickering flame that threatened to ignite a forest fire. But the winds of change had already been sown. The waters of life now ran freely and purely throughout the Capital Wasteland.

_"I am alpha and omega…"_

But the name which had stuck to him most had been Lone Wanderer. It was a name, a title that had been bestowed upon him seemingly by fate itself. But no matter what name he made for himself in this new, terrifying world, the echo of his old life in Vault 101 never ceased to torture him during his greatest dreams and most horrible nightmares.

"Are you okay?" Sarah Lyons asked as she stepped up next to him. They both surveyed the small hill underneath which the ancient vault slumbered like a geode that existed forever in isolation in the deepest, darkest depths of the planet. Yet, in such geodes, the most valuable crystals could congregate for eons undisturbed by whatever lay in the worlds above.

The Lone Wanderer turned and kissed her gently on the cheek. After the Wanderer had saved the Brotherhood by almost single-handedly annihilating Adams Air Force Base; the last significant Enclave base on the East Coast, things between him and the Brotherhood Sentinel had almost instantly heated up.

"_If things were different, you and I could have been… friends." _

She'd said those words after they first returned from the destruction of the Enclave. Of course, the Wanderer had spent the next six or seven weeks proving that things didn't have to be different, that they both could make this relationship work if they tried. And the rewards had been sweet, the Wanderer considered delightedly as he remembered the night before he'd spent with her on the roof of his Megaton house, with only the stars to illuminate their various acts of the flesh and soul.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, Sarah." He lied as they began to approach the small crevice which housed the door to what was once home, but now lay a bitter, rusted memory that not even the perpetual force of time could decay.

The Sentinel glared at him, her crystalline blue eyes rejecting his assurance that he would be fine, but she remained silent nonetheless.

A pang of guilt resounded in his chest; he detested lying, especially to Sarah, who'd come to mean the world to him. She had filled the void left by the departure of family and friends. But most of all, the Wanderer found that while he was with Sarah, the echoes of the familiar faces who, despite the weight of some nineteen years he spent down in that pampered vault, had rejected him in an instant, were reduced to a mere whisper in the breeze. But there was one voice that would never go silent.

"_I have to ask you to leave. I'm sorry, but the situation is just too delicate for you to stay."_

Amata.

Those were her last words to him before he left for the second, final time. He imagined throughout the months that he'd yelled at her, called her a cold-hearted bitch right to her face for using and abandoning him after he stood up for her and protected her time and time again. But he'd simply obeyed like a good lapdog and left without a word. The sheer guilt and regret that had accumulated since then often enraged him to the point that the Wanderer would have to go for long treks into the wilderness to avoid shooting that annoying man Sticky every time he happened to pass through Big Town.

Eventually, the Wanderer had met Sarah, and she had tempered his burning desire to cut loose and abandon the Wasteland for good. He eventually even understood why Amata had needed him out of the vault, but for god's sake he'd actually waited for her, turned down the numerous offerings from women across the Wasteland in hopes that one day She would see that he hadn't just protected her because they were friends; he'd protected her because he had loved her.

But, in two sentences the girl of his dreams had coldly and offhandedly jabbed a dull knife into his heart, twisted it until it stopped beating, and walked it off like nothing serious had happened.

God damn her to hell! He thought silently as he turned off the radio signal that broadcasted at regular intervals, signaling that Vault 101 was ready to be opened.

And goddamn it if he was going to let her have the last word this time!

They reached the vault door a few minutes later. He checked his Pip-Boy readout: two minutes to 2:16 PM; the time he'd requested that the vault would open, for memory's sake. It was a small way he could fool those vault bastards into honoring his father. A small, satisfied feeling arose in his chest, and already he could feel the memory of his father strengthening him from beyond the barriers of time. He was not the same man he was a year ago.

He had lost more than most men.

But he had also found something; someone, who more than made up for it.

The Wanderer reached a hand out to graze the side of Sarah's face. He loved how her luminous blue eyes gazed unendingly into his, loving him, comforting him without words. "My Lyoness", he'd sometimes called her on the many nights they shared a bed.

"I love you," he said quietly and kissed her briefly on the lips.

She smiled and was about to reply when the familiar shrill screech of the vault door echoed throughout the small chasm that had hid the colossal structure from the sun and the stars for over two centuries.

Until now.

Aside, Sarah stood guardedly, unflinching in a circumstance he'd barely tolerated a year before. But, much like his golden-haired lover, the Wasteland had molded him into something more than human. He stood unfazed and considered silently that Amata would have very likely flinched and complained under the duress of such a grinding, hellish sound.

"Remember the ground rules, Sarah?" he asked as the door slid open.

Sarah nodded hesitantly although her hand hovered at her holster that held her laser pistol. The moment the Wanderer had told her about how coldly his former childhood friend Amata had treated him, Sarah had almost flat-out demanded that the Brotherhood dedicate its resources to breaching the vault and having Amata answer for callously damaging the Wanderer's ability to trust and love again. Thankfully, Sarah had healed his wounds and with her help he shined bright like a beacon of hope across the Wasteland. And after a little persuading, Sarah had agreed to forgo her quest to avenge her lover's broken heart, though he didn't doubt for a second that if Sentinel Sarah Lyons decided to break down the vault door, it would most assuredly be breached. Such was the power of love.

The Wanderer looked onward as the door screeched to a halt. Various figures – some he recognized, others not, huddled in the entrance. They approached the threshold guardedly, hissing at each other in hushed voices.

His Vault-Tec assisted gaze filtered over the vault's exposed inhabitants, searching the blank, sheltered faces to no avail.

Where was she?

Suddenly, the figures parted and a young woman with stark brown hair and blue eyes sauntered past, through the threshold.

"Amata," the Wanderer said blankly.

"It's you! You actually came!" Amata smiled and reached out to hug him. "I missed you so much!"

The Wanderer backed away, surveying her with a gaze that gleamed colder than the most distant stars.

"W-what's the matter?" Amata asked. Her smile faltered as her gaze settle on Sarah, perhaps realizing that she no longer owned a controlling stake in his heart. "Did I say something wrong?"

"'I have to ask you to leave. I'm sorry but the situation is just too delicate for you to stay'. Ring any bells?" The Wanderer asked coolly.

"Yeah, but – but the vault needed you gone if things were to get back to normal," she excused herself. "Your presence would have just caused more trouble, especially after all the damage _you_ caused."

Now it was the Wanderer's turn to falter.

"Damage _I_ caused? I distinctly remember you asking for _my_ help, and after you were finished using me to save your sorry ass, you booted me out like a stray dog," the Wanderer turned face his beloved. "Let's go, Sarah, I'm so sorry you had to see this."

Sarah put a hand on his left arm and squeezed comfortingly.

"Who the hell is this chick?" Amata blared, her face turning bright crimson.

Sarah removed her hand from his arm and advanced on Amata, who wisely backed up a few steps.

"The name's Sarah Lyons," she spoke, her voice low and hotly territorial, "Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel and leader of Lyon's Pride. And…" she walked back to the Wanderer and gave him a long, deep kiss on the lips. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss to the Wanderer, Sarah broke the kiss and sneered at the practically fuming Amata. "The woman who gets to do this whenever she wants," Sarah taunted.

"Bitch!" Amata huffed and made a move to slap the blonde warrior across the face. Her hand never made it within a foot of the Wanderer's lover.

Almost instantaneously, Sarah threw a right hook, catching Amata square in the jaw. The clumsy brunette staggered and collapsed on the rock floor, knocked out cold.

The stunned vault inhabitants gasped as their leader, who had for over a year seemed invincible within the confines of the vault, lay defeated before their very eyes.

"Damn it, Sarah. I thought I told you Amata was off limits!" The Wanderer said seriously, but Sarah could sense the playful aura in his words.

"Oh, come on, she's lucky I'm not going to subject her to Paladin Gunny's training regimen."

In spite of himself, the Wanderer grinned, imagining the pampered bitch Amata going through Brotherhood initiation Gunny style.

"Pain in the ass," he said lovingly. He put an arm around her as they turned from the vault door.

They reached the threshold, and in moments they would be back in the Wasteland, enduring all the horrors and misfortunes that he seemed to attract like a magnet. He stopped suddenly and dove within the confines of his own mind, searching for the voice, _her_ voice. His search was met with only silence. Peace.

"You holding up okay?" Sarah brought him out of his silent reverie. The Wanderer turned and smiled slightly. Somehow, she always seemed to know if something was troubling him. He lifted his left arm and ran his hand through her hair. He gazed blissfully into her gleaming aquatic blue eyes.

"I've never felt better," the Wanderer replied confidently, and kissed her once more on the lips.

As he opened the thin wooden door, the sun which had somehow defeated the ash-gray clouds in the sky, greeted them like a twinkling gem above, lighting their way. The Wanderer knew that whatever trials or triumphs that awaited him in his long, twisted destiny, Sarah genuinely desired to be by his side. For the sheer sake of his company, Sarah would be there.

And as the Wanderer took those first steps away from the artificiality of the cold, lifeless vault and back into the land that had changed him, molded him into the savior the world knew him to be, he felt stronger than ever before.


End file.
